What It Means

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J








Disclaimer: Harry
Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and not Alt Although I’m sure she’s not
thrilled about what I’ve done to her boys, I thank her nonetheless for the
opportunity.

 

A/N: First off…WOW! The last chapter got *mad*
responses…thus the quickness or this chapter’s arrival. See how that works…the
feedback fuels me. THANK YOU! For all the reviews.

 

Now…on the Michael issue. *Never* have I seen
such intense anger over a character. I forgot how vicious slash fans can
be…remind me *never* to come between these boys. It would be certain death.
Anyways…*I* like Michael. I like him a lot, actually, and I tried really hard
not to make him a *bad* guy. He’s not a good guy either…but really…who is?
THANK YOU to the few people that actually expressed some like for him, or
understanding of his place in this story. For those who didn’t…thank you as
well for sharing your opinions with me. *All* of you, my lovely readers, are
what keep this story going.

 

Thanks Jasmine!

 

On with the newest
chapter!

 

 

 

Chapter 10………..Harry’s
Dating Fiasco or Painful times.

*******************************************************

 

 

 

 

As Harry stepped into
his flat, he had to keep himself from screaming. He’d been home from Ireland for two weeks, and he still hadn’t spoken to
Draco. He wasn’t sure if he *wanted* to. Okay…that was a lie. Of course he
wanted to…but after the fiasco in Ireland (that managed to make the front page of the
Daily Prophet), he found himself still angry at his former lover. He hadn’t
meant to restrict Draco in any way, but couldn’t he see that it couldn’t be
helped? Was he supposed to just roll over and *enjoy* seeing him with other
people?

 

After talking to
Hermione, Harry had decided to take her advice and start dating. He wasn’t
looking for anyone to share his life, or his bed…but he was lonely. This, of
course, was easier said than done. He’d been on several dates and all of them
had managed to be, in one way or another, absolutely horrible.

 

First there was Eric,
a muggle. Also what we like to call an ‘alcoholic’. The man see seemed normal
enough, but throughout dinner, Harry noticed the unusual amount of drinks he
had put down. When he had referred to drink number ten (Harry was guessing) as
his ‘medicine’ Harry took that as his cue to leave.

 

Next came Jonathan,
also *seemingly* normal. A masculine and handsome man, Jonathan made quick work
of explaining to Harry the pros and cons of women’s underwear. Wearing
them…that is.

 

Third, in the muggle
world, was Darren. He was nice, and had a great smile. He also, unfortunately,
lived in the closet. After the fifth time he’d pulled Harry into an alley way
because he thought he saw his neighbor, his aunt, or maybe his dog Fannie from
third grade, Harry grew irritated and wanted to wave a rainbow flag over his head.


 

So he moved on to
wizards. Two god awful wizards.

 

The first had been
suggested by, of all people, David. His name was Patrick, and he was *very*
Irish. Harry had liked his accent, along with other assets of his, but there
was one tiny problem. Apparently Ol’ Patrick was a member of what Harry will
forever more refer to as the ‘Draco Malfoy Fan Club.’ The Irishman had gone on
and on about the merits of the wonderful and gous ous Draco Malfoy, coming to
the realization that maybe it might be a sore subject after an hour of morbid
hero worship. Harry grimaced, remembering the young man’s face contorting into
shock and hearing his voice draw out his realization. “Oh god…I forgot, you two
were (*shaky hand gesture*)…that must really suck. I don’t know what I’d do if
I lost someone like Draco Malfoy!” Harry promptly banged his head on the table.


 

And tonight, the coup
de grace, aka – Tyler. Hermione had talked him into the date (since Harry almost sworn off
men altogether) saying over and over that he was “so nice!”. So Harry had gone.
In retrospect, he’d have rather sworn off men…in fact…the date had been similar
to doing just that.

 

The phone rang and
Harry answered it only in some vague hope that maybe lightning would strike him
dead through the line.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Harry! How did it
go? Tell me everything?”

&;
;

“Hermione…if I *ever*
need a date again, which I highly doubt, since I don’t see myself ever getting
another erection as long as I live…*never* set me up. I don’t care if I beg and
plead…I’d rather die alone in a dumpster with my cats than go through that
again.”

 

Hermione was silent
for a moment. “Harry…I don’t know what’s wrong…Tyler’s always so nice. I thought you two would get
on well together.” She sounded hurt that her efforts had been unappreciated.

 

“Mione…yeah…Tyler would be great, if I liked *women* which, in
case you hadn’t noticed, I do *not*.”

 

“Harry, what are you
talking about?”

 

“Contrary to popular
belief Mione, not all gay men want their partner to be a woman with a penis.
Like I give a damn about glamour magic or the thread count of my sheets!!!!”

 

“I…I’m sorry Harry…I
just thought…”

 

“There is such a
thing as *too* gay, Mione. I’m tired…I’m not mad, just…celibate. Maybe for
life. I’m going to bed now, and I will talk to you as as as the nightmares
stop.”

 

He hung up the phone
and made way for the bathroom to wash the horrible night from his skin.

 

*************************************************************

 

Draco Malfoy lay
quietly in bed in his hotel suite, for the last night. Tomorrow, his flat would
*finally* be ready. After ages of searching, he’d found the perfect place. It
was spacious and…perfect. He’d bought all of his furniture (k lek leather, of
course), fixtures and art and tomorrow morning, everything would be in place. He
really should have been excited. He was, however, not. Of course he was happy
to finally have a home of his own…but something was…missing. Maybe it was the
fact that Christmas lurked just around the corner, and Draco didn’t have
anywhere to go. The season made him think of home. Holidays were never
particularly warm in the Malfoy household, but it was certainly better than
being alone. Maybe it was that he was still fighting with Harry. Well…fighting
isn’t really the word since they weren’t even speaking. He hadn’t meant to get
so angry…it was all just so…confusing. He couldn’t deny that he had an interest
in Michael. The man had apologized and the two of them had managed to rebuild
their working relationship. Michael was a tactful and smart man; he hadn’t
pushed since that day. Still…Draco had questions. Michael made him…tingle, in a
way. But Harry…made him warm. Above all else, he had forged a strong friendship
with the savior of the wizarding world and didn’t want to lose it. He was Draco
Malfoy…he *needed* no one. And so he kept his distance from Harry Potter, and
then…maybe…he could believe that.

 

********************************************************************

 

Michael stepped into
Draco’s flat and looked around. The place certainly suited him – hardwood
floors and open doorways with an elite selection of art adorning the walls. It
was Christmas Eve, and neither of the two men had anyone to share it with, so
he had stopped by. Draco stepped into the foyer, freshly showered, and greeted
him.

 

“I’m just finishing
up, take a look around.”

 

Michael made his way
through the high rise apartment and found that every square foot seemed to fit
Draco perfectly. He even had an enormous king sized bed on a raised platform,
drawing all attention in the room to it. The thought made his mind wander. He
had backed off since Ireland, giving Draco the space he needed to figure
things out for himself – to figure out what it was he wanted. He had even
contemplated giving up…but now, standing in Draco’s bedroom, he decided he
could go a few more rounds. Still, looking around, something was…missing.

 

Draco watched the
other man look around for a few moments. When Michael looked a bit confused, he
spoke up. “Looking for something?”

 

“You don’t have a
Christmas tree.”

 

Draco shrugged. “No
point really. I wasn’t going to do anything.”

 

“That’s nonsense.
Everyone needs a Christmas tree. Spend Christmas with me…we’ll leave now and
get a tree, and later we can have dinner.”

 

Draco thought on this
for a moment before nodding. “Okay then. It’s not like I have anything else to
do.”

 

Michael didn’t try to
hide sarcsarcasm. “Glad to know you enjoy my company so much. Get your coat.”

 

*******************************************************************

 

Harry finished
setting up his flat for Christmas. He wasn’t in the worst of moods, but he
wasn’t particularly happy either. Sure, Ron and Hermione would be here later
with Ginny and the twins for dinner, but it just wasn’t the same. He missed his
family. It wasn’t as though he’d spent any Christmases with them that he could
remember, but the grief was not lessened by this fact. The season catered to
family, and he always came up short. He had considered calling Draco, knowing
the Slytherin would most likely be alone as well, but had decided against it.
He didn’t think he and Ron could handle the whole evening together, and
Christmas was not a time for fighting. Besides…he had Michael now.

 

With a sigh, Harry
placed the star on the top of the tree and headed for the shower.

 

********************************************************************

 

Draco and Michael
heaved a great sigh as they finally managed to get the Christmas tree into
Draco’s apartment. Both men were panting and warm, despite the bitter chill
from the open window. Michael threw his gloves off and turned to Draco.

 

“You just *had* to
live on the 27th floor, didn’t you?”

 

Draco scoffed. “It’s
not my fault the damnhinghing wouldn’t fit in the elevator. I think we should
take a break before trying to move it.” He paused, then “Do you want a glass of
wine?”

 

With a nod Michael
followed him into the kitchen. As Draco poured two glasses of burgundy wine, he
noticed the waning light outside.

 

“It’ll be dark soon.”

 

He handed a glass to
the slightly taller man and raised his own in a toast. “Merry Christmas.”

 

Michael nodded.
“Merry Christmas, D.”
.”

 

Neither of them spoke
as they relocated to the living room and sat comfortably on the couch. When
Draco sat his glass on the marble table in front of them, he turned and faced
Michael.

 

“I know I’ve been a
bit harsh on you these past few weeks. But I just wanted to say…thank you. For
all the help you’ve been, I mean. I couldn’t have done any of this without
you.”

 

Michael moved closer
to him and sat down his own glass. He had expected Draco to tense when he
touched his hand, but did it nonetheless. “I’m a business man. A good one. It’s
your own determination that’s gotten you here. You should give yourself more
credit.”

 

Draco looked away, a
faint blush tainting his cheeks. “Thank you.”

 

He started slightly
when he felt a warm hand on his cheek, turning his head back to face his
companion. Michael smiled and leaned into him. Draco had a brief moment of
conflict where he didn’t know whether to close his eyes of push the other man
away. He didn’t have to decide though, as right at that moment; an owl flew to
his window and hooted for his attention. Draco slid off the couch and crossed
to the bird while Michael swiped his glass off the table and downed the
contents, frustrated. When he’d finished his wine, he sat back and closed his
eyes, wondering whether or not he’d be able to coax Draco back into their
previous position.

 

He was startled out
of his reverie by the sound of shattering glass.

 

**********************************************************

 

Harry had just
finished setting the table and all of his guests had finally arrived. He forced
a smile and told himself that he would have a good time no matter what. He had
a few last things to do and then the six friends could sit down to a nice
Christmas Eve dinner. Ginny and Hermione helped in the kitchen while Ron and
the twins sat in the living room and marveled at the television. Through their
laughter, Harry heard a knock on the door.

 

“Ron, could you get
that? My hands are full.” He called out to his friend.

 

“Sure, Harry.”

 

Ron crossed to the
door and opened it, expecting maybe a teammate of Harry’s or another of his
friends. At first he did not recognize the tall man with long dark hair, but
soon enough, he recalled his face from the front page of the Daily Prophet.

 

“Bloody hell! You’re
that Michael bloke that’s caused Harry so much trouble!”

 

The twins snapped
their heads in the direction of the door, surprised by Ron’s outburst. They
could hear the voice form the other side.

 

“You must be Ron
Weasley. As much as I’d enjoy standing here and exchanging insults with you, I
haven’t the time. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Harry Potter.”

 

Ron blocked the
doorway with his arm. “Like hell you will!”

 

Michael scowled and
narrowed his eyes at the infuriated red head. “If you value your arm, remove
it. I have no business with you; now move before I move you!”

 

Ron gripped the door
and opened his mouth to shout again, but Harry’s sudden presence behind him
caused him to calm a bit. “I don’t know what this git wants Harry, he just
showed up here. I can throw him out if you want.”

 

Harry pushed Ron
aside and studied Michael for a moment. “It’s alright Ron; go back in the
living room.”

 

“But Harry!”

 

“Go, Ron…I’m fine,
okay?”

 

Ron grumbled as he
stomped back to the couch. With his friend out of earshot, Harry glared at
Michael. “So what is it you want then?”

 

“Could I speak to you
somewhere more private?”

 

Harry crossed his
arms. “No. You felt the need to interrupt my Christmas Eve dinner, so I think
you should just come out with it. What do you want?”

 

Michael willed his
voice to stay calm as he addressed Harry. “Sorry to interrupt your cozy
evening, but there’s somewhere you need to be.”

 

Harry quirked a brow.
“Oh? And where is that?”

 

“With Draco.”

 

Scoffing, Harry ran a
hand through his hair. “So you just show up on my doorstep on Christmas Eve to
do what? Tell me you concede? What do you really want?”

 

Michael snarled and
grabbed Harry by his shirt. “God damnit Potter! This doesn’t have anything to
do with you or me! I’m only here because he needs you and I’m not such a
selfish bastard as to think I’d be enough to help him!”

 

Harry’s expression
changed as he wriggled out of the other man’s grip. “What do you mean he needs
me? What’s wrong?!”

 

Michael straightened
and handed Harry a piece of parchment. Harry furrowed his brow in worry as he
read the short note.

 

Boy,

 

Your Father is dead. Do not owl. I will be in
touch regarding your inheritance.

 

Narcissa Malfoy.

 

“Oh god….”

 

Michael handed
another slip of paper to Harry.

 

“There…that’s the
address. Hurry…he didn’t look so good when I left.”

 

Harry spun around,
furious. “You bastard! Why did you leave at all? God knows what he’ll do…”

 

“I didn’t…he threw me
out right after he shattered an 800£ sculpture. I tried to get back in, but he
wouldn’t let me…I…I’m not sure he can handle this. As much as I hate to admit
it…he needs…” The man tapered off, unwilling to finish his sentence.

 

“So I apparated here.
Now get your coat already!”

 

“I’ll apparate
there…let me get my wand.”

 

Michael stopped him.
“Bad idea. There’s no telling what kind of magical energy is surging through
the area right now. You’d best go the old fashioned way…but take your wand
anyways.”

 

Harry nodded and
grabbed his coat and wand. He gave a quick explanation to his guests and headed
for the door.

 

“Wait!” He spun on
his heel and shot into the kitchen, digging through a drawer.

 

“Whatever it is can
wait, Potter.” Michael shouted from the doorway.

 

When he finally found
the parchment he was looking for, Harry sighed in relief and ran to the door.
Michael grabbed his arm and held him still for a moment.

 

“Take care of
him…please. He…scared the shit out of me just now.”

 

Harry snatched his
arm away, but his expression softened a bit when he saw the worry etched on the
other man’s face. He nodded and took off for the address Michael had given him.
He prayedt Drt Draco would be okay when he got there.

 

‘He *has* to be okay’ ………

 

************************************

 

TBC

 

 

*Kiss* Love you! Tee
hee hee. The next chapter is already written…but we’re in the home stretch here
and I don’t want to spring it on you too quick now do I? It’ll be here
soon…promi

 

 

Please Review.

 

Love and Kisses,

 

Reika